Unwrapped
by Gloriana Femina
Summary: A rated M companion to my Gift Wrapping AU. After declaring their mutual love, Erik and Christine have decided to share something very special - themselves. Erik tries to stay calm and fails, Christine tries to be delicate but has to spell things out. It's a little awkward the first time. Smutty, but with doses of fluff and angst. Last updated for Father's Day - not what you think.
1. May I?

_**A/N: I'm back from what felt like an extremely long hiatus! We've hit a busy season at work, and I've also been filling out job applications.**_

 _ **This is set in my Gift Wrappings AU, immediately following the chapter I wrote for Not A Ghost3's Valentine's Day contest. But this can probably be read independently without missing too much…unless you WANT to read the other chapters…that would be great, too.**_

 _ **Anyway, I published this separately because all previous chapters have been rated T, but this chapter is rated M for adult antics. There is some character building and plot towards the end, though.**_

May I?

 _Three buttons, two zippers, two pairs of underwear, one belt, one undershirt and one bra away…_

Erik wanted to watch as those barriers came down, but he heard the faint sound of her zipper as he fumbled with his last three buttons and threw his shirt to the floor.

 _One zipper, two pairs of underwear, one belt, one undershirt and one bra…_

He glanced up nervously as his belt came undone and Christine pulled her cocktail dress up over her head, revealing a matching black lace bra and panty set. He had to frantically look away at the drawn window curtains.

 _Two pairs of underwear, one undershirt and one bra…_

Christine sat on the edge of the bed but went no further. Erik swallowed hard and hesitated for a moment, his hands gripping the waistband of his trousers. Christine gave him an encouraging smile, and he pushed his trousers down. He managed to step out of them without stumbling. His eyes roved over Christine's exposed skin, and the little bits of lace covering the parts he was most desperately curious to see. He took a deep breath and awkwardly pulled his undershirt over his head on the exhale.

 _Two pairs of underwear and one bra…_

Christine seemed perfectly at ease, but Erik felt…exposed. Like a knight attacked without his armor, or a burglar caught in flood lights. He knew he was scarred from various beatings as a child, from school yard fights, and from a few altercations as an adult. He also knew that no amount of medical-grade lotion would dispel the slightly papery quality of his skin, and no amount of sunlight would provide him with the healthy glow the Raouls of the world gained from their beach vacations.

Erik suddenly remembered his mask. He was wearing his regular white one, which covered his whole face from forehead to just above his mouth and coming down his cheeks to his jaw. It provided nearly ideal coverage, but it lacked flexibility. He imagined that flexibility would be important if they were to continue.

Erik held up one bony finger as he fled to the bathroom in search of his black silk sleeping mask. He pulled it out of the drawer he'd stuffed it in earlier that day and avoided the mirror as he removed one mask and replaced it with the other. He chanced a look at himself once that was done, noting his scrawny torso, his visible excitement, and the anxious set of his jaw.

 _Don Juan incarnate_ , he thought sardonically. _How could any woman resist me?_

He shook his head from side to side as he wondered how he was going to get through this. A glance down at his erection reminded him that he might go insane if he didn't.

He quickly strode back across the hall to the bedroom, where Christine was waiting. In his absence, she had lain back on the bed, her hair fanned out on a pillow, and one leg propped up and bent at the knee. She didn't say anything about the change in mask – he was deeply indebted to her for her tact – or the marginal amount of skin his black mask exposed. She just wordlessly patted the bed next to her, inviting him to join her.

He said a little prayer of thanks to whoever or whatever might be listening and sank onto the bed beside her. Christine rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow. As she cupped his face with her hand and kissed him, Erik fought the urge to bolt.

He didn't know what to do with his hands. Was he allowed to touch her? _What_ was he allowed to touch? Should he ask for her permission? Or should he wait until she provided instructions?

Christine's hand left his face, leaving him bereft until he felt her feather-light touch on his chest. The pads of her fingers glided over his torso, making his muscles spasm when they brushed his sides and stomach.

She pulled away from him and sat up on her knees. His gaze was a little unfocused as she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. He stared shamelessly at her breasts as she casually tossed the scrap of black lace onto the floor. Her right breast was a little bit bigger than the left, but he decided quickly that he loved them both equally.

 _Two pairs of underwear…_

His palms itched to touch them, but he was frozen in place. He was a total novice with no clue how to proceed. Surely, it would ungentlemanly to simply grab them…

"You know, you can look _and_ touch," Christine murmured. Erik was having trouble breathing, so he couldn't answer. He silently pleaded with her to take the lead.

Perhaps, she understood, for she slowly reached out and took his hands. He sat up awkwardly – it wasn't easy to do when he couldn't use his arms for leverage. Christine gently placed his hands on her breasts.

"This is a good place to start," she purred.

They felt heavenly, smooth and soft, but slightly firm with hardened nipples. Erik gave them each a tender squeeze and stroked them with his thumb. He felt her shiver, hopefully with desire.

Erik allowed one hand to continue massaging her right breast while the other roamed, running up and down her back. He leaned in towards the left one and asked, "May I…" He tilted his head towards the white globe.

"Yes, Erik," she said.

He gave her breast a feather-light kiss and then turned his attention to her hardened nipple. He sucked it gently.

Christine bit her lip and closed her eyes as he did wicked things to her with his tongue. When she opened them again, she leaned towards him, resting her hands on his shoulders. She gently pushed him back onto the bed, and then hooked her thumbs in her underwear. She slid them down her thighs, adjusting her position so she could pull them all the way down and then throw them on the floor with her bra.

 _One pair of underwear…oh, God!_

Erik wrapped one arm around her as Christine laid down next to him, her body pressed against his.

"Protection!" Erik cringed, realizing that he had practically shouted that into her face.

"What about it," Christine asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"I don't have any…condoms," Erik whispered apologetically. "I didn't think we would actually be doing this, so I didn't prepare." He stared at a point on the wall above her shoulder, so he wouldn't have to see the disgust that would, no doubt, animate her face because of his ineptitude. He felt like a teenage boy who'd never been alone with a girl before, not a grown man who had every intention of making love to the woman of his dreams.

"I have some in my purse," Christine said, interrupting his self-loathing.

His gaze swung back to her perfectly frank eyes. "Forgive me," he said awkwardly, "but, have you…have you been…tested?"

It was Christine's turn to finally look a bit awkward and nervous. "Well, I was tested a couple of months after…after my last time." She paused, staring at his throat. "But that was two years ago. When my boyfriend and I broke up. I got tested because he'd been cheating. I was fine, thank goodness."

"I'm sorry. That must have been awful."

"It didn't feel good, no. But it's all in the past," she said, bringing Erik back to the very naked present. "Should I go get the condoms?"

"No, I'll…I'll go get your purse."

Once again, Erik escaped the bedroom, uncharacteristically tripping over his own feet as he made his way down the hall. He was fighting a bubbling sense of relief. They had never said anything about not seeing other people. While Erik had made a joke or two at New Year's about it, it was surely obvious that there weren't any other women in his life. But Christine…she was beautiful, she was as charming as she was lovely, and he didn't doubt that she could attract flocks of men if she wanted.

Erik would have been devastated if she'd told him she'd seen other men over the last couple of months. She would have had every right to spend her time with any man she chose, of course. Nevertheless, he wasn't sure he could bear knowing that she'd left his arms only to run to someone else's. In fact, he'd never asked to be "exclusive" because he'd been terrified that she'd turn him down.

Yet, she hadn't been with anyone at all for two years, and he, Erik, was the man she'd chosen…the man who had the glorious opportunity to cherish her the way she deserved…

He returned to the bedroom with slightly more grace than when he'd left it and handed her the purse. She set it aside for the time being, but it was in easy reach.

Erik settled back onto the bed next to her, his heart pounding.

Christine turned onto her side and skimmed his stomach with a fingertip.

"You know," she said hesitantly, "we've established that I'm safe, and you're a virgin, so you're safe, too…"

"Yes," Erik prompted after a pause.

"I have an IUD, so we wouldn't have to worry about…any _accidents_."

Erik stared at her blankly as her eyes tried to send him a message he did not receive.

"There wouldn't be any _consequences_ ," she said, "if we left the condoms in the purse."

 _Oh. Ooooohhhhh…_ His mouth fell open.

"I wouldn't suggest it, but, well, my skin doesn't handle them well."

"Anything that'll make you more comfortable," Erik assured her, fighting an excited grin.

Christine leaned in with a smile. "Touch me, Erik," she whispered into his ear.

His heart stopped. And then it restarted, but it seemed to have traveled to his throat, which is not how a heart was supposed to behave.

"How," he asked cautiously.

" _Intimately_."

"Oh, you mean…" Erik sat up, so he could see what he was doing, afraid he wouldn't find it without a good view.

Christine spread her legs, and Erik's attention was immediately engrossed in what he saw there – all pink flesh and dark curls. One of Georgia O'Keefe's flowers come to life. His fingers grazed her thighs on their way to her rosy center, eliciting a soft moan and a gentle thrust of her hips. One pale digit stroked that little button of flesh, and Christine groaned quietly.

Erik held his breath as he continued to rub her there with his thumb and then graze it with his fingertip. Meanwhile, Christine had closed her eyes and squirmed on her back, as if she were trying to help him find the perfect angle.

"May I…" Erik hesitated, two of his fingers hovering at her entrance, unsure if he could even finish the question, let alone act on his impulse.

"Oh, yes, please," she sighed with a sweet smile.

He slowly slipped them into her warm center. He explored her a moment before crooking his fingers, causing her to gasp. He repeated the motion, a little deeper this time, and Christine moaned, "Yes, right there!"

Erik obeyed her direction, but then he boldly began rubbing her again with his thumb. Christine writhed on the bed, thrusting insistently against his hand. He lowered himself closer and breathed, "May I," again.

"Oh, yessss, pleasssse," she moaned.

He gave her clitoris an experimental lick, causing her to hum in pleasure. He nipped it a little with his teeth. A sharp gasp.

 _Fascinating._

He massaged her with his tongue as his fingers kept up their ministrations. As he kept up a steady rhythm, part of his analytical mind filed away every motion of his that earned a sigh, moan, thrust, or change of position. He was afraid he had done something wrong when she suddenly grabbed two fistfuls of the sheets and started seizing up, muscles contracting and releasing in turn.

It was only when her whole body relaxed, and she opened her eyes, looking at him with a sort of hazy glow, that he understood what had just happened. He had made her…she had just…

"Oh," he let out on a breath.

Christine giggled, snuggling deeper in her pillow and closing her long legs. He hated to have the lovely sight obscured, but he didn't argue when she sat up and pushed him onto his back.

She felt soft and light as she laid on top of him, her curves pressed against his hard, angular frame. She kissed and sucked at his neck, just below his right ear – a spot they had both learned a few weeks before sent his mind reeling with sensation. He couldn't suppress a slight groan of disappointment as she moved down his neck and away from that sensitive patch of skin, but all disappointment vanished as she continued to travel past his collarbone and down to his chest.

As her fingertips traced invisible, fiery patterns on his skin and her tongue licked at one nipple, his hands gained a mind of their own, and they frantically jerked up and down her back. He saw stars behind tightly closed eyelids as she shifted her position on top of him and her thigh pressed against his shaft through the thin material of his boxers. They were the last barrier between her body and his, and he suddenly hated them for it.

She was kissing his stomach now. He was panting a little as he raised up on an elbow and opened his eyes, so he could see her as she got further down his body. She paused when she reached the waistband of his boxers and looked up at him through her long, dark lashes.

"May I?"

Erik nodded once, the anticipation smothering his voice. He raised his hips a little as Christine tugged his boxers down, exposing his erection. He felt a little embarrassed by its insistence, a bit ashamed to know that a woman was staring it. But his cock didn't share such compunctions. Rather, it was boldly proclaiming just how excited it was to be free and to have nothing but air between it and its desire.

 _Air. Somehow, I forgot about air._

Christine seemed to study his member for a moment before allowing one delicate hand to hover just out of reach before asking again, "May I?"

Erik was in agony as he jerked his head up and down frenetically. He was too shocked by the feeling of her soft skin wrapping around his hard erection to stop a long, drawn-out "Aaaaahhhhhh" from escaping his lips.

He tried to hold still as her hands worked up and down his shaft, but he failed, his hips bucking as his head fell back. He heard her ask, "May I," again.

He had no clue what she was asking permission to do, but he panted distractedly, "Do whatever you want."

 _Fuuuuuuuckkkk…_

Erik glanced down to see what miracle was occurring to make him feel like this, and he watched her take his length into her mouth. He couldn't look away as he felt her tongue swirl around his shaft before she bobbed her head up and down, causing the most amazing friction. After a few minutes of this exquisite pleasure, he was beginning to think he couldn't handle this much sensation anymore – he really and truly thought he might die – when she suddenly stopped, and he collapsed onto his pillow.

Christine crawled back on top, and he smoothed back her riotous curls before pulling her down in a wild kiss. He'd always tended towards gentility, preferring to take his time and savor every moment, but now his passion was fierce and reckless. He had to have her and soon.

Together, they rolled so she was pinned beneath him. His erection rubbed against her slick entrance, and he heard himself beg, "Please, Christine."

"Yes, yes," she hissed back.

She guided his cock to her entrance, and he felt the head slide in with a slow thrust. He held himself still as he took in this new sensation – warmth, wetness, soft flesh – and then slowly pushed himself in a little further, relishing the way she felt and the sound of her contented sigh. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pulled back before sliding as far in as he could.

He found a satisfying rhythm while trying to direct the head of his cock to the spot inside of her he had found with his fingers, and she moaned deeply when he did. As his hips grew accustomed to rocking into her, he tried to focus on every detail. Her scent, the way her face contorted in passion, the sound of their bodies coming together, the sharp pain and pleasure of her fingernails on his back. And everything was wonderful.

As he thrust faster and deeper, her cries rose in pitch and volume. Far too soon for his liking, he had to let himself go, and for a few glorious seconds, his brilliant analytical mind blinked off, and he knew nothing but pleasure.

Once he came back to his senses, Erik rolled off her, instantly regretting the loss of connection, but well aware that he couldn't hold himself up any longer.

Christine snuggled up to him. He grinned like an idiot as he said, "That was amazing."

"And just think of everything we haven't even tried yet."

"Hmmm?" He gave her his full attention.

"Positions, toys, locations," she said lazily. "The opportunities are endless…"

"I'll do anything to be closer to your…uh, _you,_ my dear."

"Riiiight," she drawled. "Good save."

"I thought so."

They were both silent for a few minutes, allowing their heartrates and breathing to even out.

"Erik, maybe this isn't the best time to have this discussion," Christine admitted as she turned on her side to face him, "but we sort of already brought it up earlier." She paused and seemed to be gathering her courage. "You said you haven't been with anyone else. And I haven't been serious about anyone in a long time. Until I met you, that is. I haven't gone out with anyone else since I moved to New York. I haven't even wanted to since I auditioned for you. Erik, I don't want to go out with anybody but you."

"I don't want to go out with anyone else, either," Erik quickly assured her.

"Then are we a…couple," she asked hopefully.

Erik took a deep breath as he tried to get around the lump forming in his throat, "Yes, we're a couple," he choked out.

"Then that's settled," she announced with a relieved smile. "I'm just glad I don't have to worry about some other soprano distracting you."

"Impossible," Erik declared. "I can assure you, my dear, that I am getting the better bargain, now that I don't have to worry about some Raoul coming along and taking you away from me."

"Raoul," she said asked with a snort.

Erik shrugged his shoulders, deciding it was best to come clean about his paranoia now.

"I would like to say that I have been saving myself all of these years because I knew that a woman just like you would come along, and there was no point in settling for anything less than your perfection. But the truth is that I was simply not built to be a ladies' man. Being with you makes me feel luckier than if l had won the lottery every day for the last six months, but whenever I think about the kind of man…" He sighed and looked away. "The kind of man I think you _should_ be with…I imagine a blond former track and field star named Raoul." Erik sneered the name, as if he personally knew a Raoul, and he had ruined Erik's life. "He comes from old money, understands yachting terms, and has an MBA because he's going to take over the family business someday. In my mind, he's as wholesome as apple pie and is the ideal of WASP-y masculine beauty. Not a…a pasty scarecrow straight out of a Tim Burton movie."

He blinked back the tears threatening to blur his vision. He offered no resistance as her hand gently turned his head back to face her.

"Oh, Erik," she whispered. "I suppose I have to admit that I'd never imagined being with someone like you…but that's only because I lacked sufficient imagination. How could I have ever foreseen meeting a man with golden eyes, the sexiest voice imaginable, and that smirk I love so much?"

"And it doesn't bother you that I look more like the Pumpkin King than a Disney prince," he asked incredulously, glad that she didn't know just how accurate that description was.

"I went as Sally for three Halloweens in a row after I saw _The Nightmare Before Christmas_. And a couple of times since then," she confided. "I'm elated to have a boyfriend as dreamy as Jack Skellington."

"Boyfriend," he scoffed to hide how much it moved him that she wasn't feeding him some lines about how he was perfectly normal. For the first time, he really felt wanted for exactly what he was.

"Lover," Christine suggested.

"I like that for the bedroom, but not out in public."

"Beau!"

"Too old-fashioned."

"Paramour!"

"Too medieval!"

"Suitor!"

"I don't sit in your parlor with you and a chaperone."

"Inamorato," she pronounced dramatically, rolling the 'r.'

"No!"

"Sweetie!"

"Not in front of Nadir."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Arbuthnot. Please allow me to introduce you to my gentleman friend, Erik Rousseau."

"Boyfriend, it is," he groaned, pulling her closer and kissing her to stifle her giggles.

 _ **A/N: So, how was my first ever smut scene? Euphemisms are hard.**_

 _ **Remember, kids, consent is mutual, affirmative, enthusiastic, continuous, and sexy!**_


	2. Antidote

_**A/N: This chapter takes place immediately after the Mother's Day chapter of**_ **Gift Wrapped** _ **called "Poison."**_

Antidote

Christine went in for one more passionate kiss, which he returned with vigor, and then she pulled off her wet shirt.

Erik found himself at eye level with her cleavage. It was a stirring sight, to say the least. However, he reflected with unease on the fact that he'd almost lost the easy intimacy they'd established since Valentine's Day. But he was relieved that his dear Christine had finally seen the worst and loved him for it.

He carefully placed his hands at her waist and kissed the tops of each breast, grateful he still had the opportunity to do so. He felt her hands slide up and down his arms, and he sighed into her chest.

Their dramatic afternoon had unsettled him. His heart had beaten a desperate rhythm during their talk, a desperation fueled by fear and anxiety. Anxiety had given way to…to _need_. He needed her in his arms. He needed reassurance that she wouldn't leave. And more than anything, he simply needed _her_.

He kissed his way up her chest to her neck – that magical column that held her golden voice – and then up one side to her ear. Christine moaned softly as he nipped at her earlobe and then sucked. She shifted her weight, so she could straddle him, holding onto his bony shoulders for balance.

What a difference a couple of months had made! Where was his hesitation now? Her careful consideration of his inexperience? Perhaps they'd vanished in the bedroom, or the bathroom, or the laundry room…

Christine was now pressed against his hardness, and it was killing him. He felt a little ashamed that he wanted to spoil the peace after their trouble, but he was so _hard_.

She interrupted his line of thought by tipping his head back to slowly kiss his thin lips.

"I like it better without the mask," she whispered against his mouth. He found that he liked it, too. He liked the feeling of his bare skin against hers, with nothing between them.

"Darling," he ventured in a low voice, "I wish I were the kind of romantic hero who could have a sweet moment with you and leave it at that." He paused to nip at her white neck, leaving a little red mark with his teeth. "But, unfortunately, I'm a villain who must sully these sweet moments by pressing his advantage…"

"Meaning?"

Erik didn't answer, but let his fingers inch up her back, grazing a small mole along the way. He unfastened her bra, and her arms left his shoulders, so she could slip off the straps, freeing her breasts from the confining garments. She let her bra fall to the floor, as Erik cupped her breasts and gently massaged them.

"I think this makes the moment sweeter," Christine whispered as she reached for his collar. She made quick work of his shirt buttons, twitching her hips and sending shockwaves through him.

Erik slid his hands down her sides and grasped her backside as he stood them both up, leaning her against the table. He wanted her to feel how much he desired her. He ground himself against her and hissed between clenched teeth as she tossed her head back and moaned.

Christine stripped him of his shirt, lightly scratching his stomach with her fingernails and setting his cold skin on fire. She brushed her hand against the front of his trousers before unbuttoning them and slowly pulling down his zipper. She pushed down is trousers and boxers, and grasped his hard length, giving it a few maddening strokes before letting him go to unfasten her blue jeans.

Erik helped her raise up enough to pull them off, along with her black lace panties. He kissed her fiercely and rubbed circles of sensation against her clitoris with his thumb, eliciting a stifled groan. She bucked against him, as he pressed his cock against her warm thigh.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. "I want you so badly."

"I want you, too. Fuck me, Erik," she panted. "Right here. Right now."

"I love it when you talk dirty," he growled.

He lifted her into a sitting position with her legs spread wide.

"I just want it to be clear that this has nothing to do with issues with my mother," he said hurriedly as he lowered her onto the table, cradling her head with one of his hands so she wouldn't suffer on the hard, wooden surface. Her curls were soft in his fingers.

"Nothing whatsoever," Christine agreed, nuzzling his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist. She grasped his cock again and positioned him at the entrance of her soft, slick folds.

"No foreplay, dear one?"

"Oh, Erik, I can't wait!"

Erik captured her mouth in another searing kiss and then rocked into her, plunging in as deeply as he could in one stroke. He held himself there for as long as he could, and she moaned into his mouth as her body stretched to accommodate him.

He finally moved again and broke their kiss, his own groan of relief disappearing into the table's protests at being used for something so far from its intended purpose. She arched beneath him as he pumped in and out of her warmth. Christine shouted, "Faster! Harder! Yes, just like that! Oh, God, I _love_ that," as he found just the right rhythm and position.

His legs were beginning to ache, but he ignored them. Aching muscles couldn't possibly demand as much attention as his groin.

He returned his thumb to her clitoris, taking great care to be gentle, knowing that in the throes of passion, Christine required a light touch. Her whole body shook as her pleasure washed through her, and he finally let himself go, lingering within her as he rode out the last divine sensations.

Erik slipped out and, still cradling her head and neck, he pulled her into his lap as he settled into a chair. They caught their breaths together as their hands traveled over each other's bare flesh. It suddenly occurred to Erik that he had completely forgotten that he was no longer wearing a mask. Somehow, even constant wear had never accomplished that.

Whatever he'd said before about this having nothing to do with his mother, he had to admit that Christine's love was the ideal antidote to his mother's hatred.

"We're definitely going to be late now," Erik drawled lazily, not at all interested in leaving the house now.

"I think they'll forgive us," Christine murmured against his shoulder.

 **xXx**

Erik put his own clothes to rights first and sent Nadir a quick text message while Christine dealt with her messy curls. It said, "I had things to do this morning, and we are running late. We are on our way, but you can order without us."

Nadir's reply came within a minute. "We'd never dream of waiting for you, Erik. By the way, 'things' is a horrible nickname for your girlfriend."

Erik considered a witty response, but the bathroom door opened, revealing Christine, fully dressed and sporting a high ponytail with a few stray wispy curls that couldn't be held back. She had attempted to fix her make up, but it was still a bit smudged around the eyes. Words were unnecessary and facile in the presence of such perfection.

"Do I look alright, or is it obvious we had a fight, and then made up on your kitchen table?"

"Both," Erik said, shoving his phone and keys into his pockets. He put an arm around her and started walking her to the door. "I do not consider those concepts mutually exclusive."

Christine gave him a sunny smile and elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "Careful, or we'll have another fight on the way and have to make up in the car in the Olive Garden parking lot."

"I like the sound of that," Erik purred. "Besides, darling, once you've had Italian food in Italy, you'll want to do anything to get out of going to the Olive Garden."

Erik paused in the doorway as he caught sight of the kitchen. He sighed fondly and said, "I'll never see that table the same way again."

Christine giggled and pulled him through the door. "That's what you said about the couch, the shower, and the washing machine."

 _ **A/N: Since,**_ **Gift Wrapping** _ **has been a pretty fluffy story, I thought they deserved this after giving them such an angsty time in "Poison."**_


	3. Accommodations

_**A/N: This is my M-rated follow-up to Gift Wrapping, Chapter 5: Approval.**_

Accommodations

Erik pushed open the door of their hotel room and held it for Christine. Their supper at one of Seattle's best seafood restaurants had been much more pleasant than their Chinese food picnic, though he would never dare disparage her father's favorite restaurant.

He gratefully removed his jacket, carefully putting it on a hanger and placing it in the closet. He sighed when he felt her embrace him from behind, her breasts pressing into his back, her arms around his middle, and her head resting between his shoulder blades.

"I'm going to take a shower," she whispered into his shirt, which would, no doubt, prove to have make up stains when he removed it. "Would you like to join me?"

Erik's body went rigid – everywhere – and he heard her chuckle at his reaction. "Uh huh," he rasped, clutching at his necktie to loosen it. He was far too gone to care about the inelegance of his response.

She led the way into their expansive bathroom, which seemed to glow in the soft lights that had been installed every foot and half in the ceiling. The mirror was lit all around, encased in a frame of golden yellow florescent lights. The beige floor tiles and sandstone wall tiles looked peaceful in the soft light, and the black marble counter top and bathtub stood out in contrast.

Christine was headed for the glass-enclosed shower, shedding her shoes, blouse, skirt and underwear along the way. Normally, Erik would be appalled at leaving one's clothes scattered on the floor, but he admired her rush to undress. Rather than taking the time to properly care for his clothes, he compromised by piling them up in one corner of the bathroom. He placed his mask on top of the pile and joined her in the shower.

The shower itself would accommodate two people nicely, and there was a convenient little bench – big enough for one bottom – attached to the floor about a foot away from the far side of the shower. It was made to look like wood, and it was textured as if it had a grain, but Erik could tell that it was a synthetic material that would withstand the ravages of water.

She had already turned it up to a scalding temperature and was clipping her dark curls up in a high bun to keep it from getting wet when he closed the glass door behind him.

He watched the water stream over her bare breasts, past her stomach, into her short dark curls, and down her shapely legs. He joined her under the water, holding her in his arms as he bent for a slow kiss.

Her skin was slippery in his hands as his tongue reacquainted itself with her mouth. He walked her backward until she was pressed against the sandstone tiles, the care she had taken to protect her hair entirely useless now.

Erik gripped her backside while her fingers dug into his damp hair. He slid his member between her thighs and gasped into her mouth as he felt the warm sensation of slowly thrusting against her slick folds.

Christine moaned as one of his hands left her rear end and found its way between their stomachs. His thumb flicked her sensitive nub as his hips stilled. She arched her own hips towards him as he stroked and rubbed.

Erik continued his ministrations and lowered himself on his knees, ignoring the slight discomfort of kneeling on the tile. He gently parted her folds and replaced his thumb with his tongue, causing Christine to gasp and buck towards him. He held onto her hips as he licked and sucked and nipped at her clitoris. She writhed against the shower tiles as his tongue darted in and out, alternating between her warm core and her clitoris.

He brought back a hand and slid a finger inside her.

"Oh, God, Erik!"

He hummed his appreciation as she grasped his hair again, this time a little more roughly. A second finger joined his first, so he could scissor them, which he happened to know drove her wild, all while his tongue massaged her. Her moans grew louder and louder until she shuddered and fell silent. He withdrew his fingers, so he could steady her with both hands.

Erik was beginning to feel desperate for his own release, especially after hearing and feeling hers. She smiled serenely as he rose and took her hand, guiding her to the faux-wood bench. Christine obviously guessed his plan because she bent over, gripping each side of the textured bench.

Her lovely rear now on display, Erik took a moment to cup each cheek, giving them a tender squeeze before administering a quick slap to the left one, causing her gasp and wiggle her bottom. She peeked at him over her shoulder, as if to ask what was taking him so long.

Erik thrust into her warm core, as deeply as he could and held himself there, reveling in the feeling. He was careful to make sure her body was no longer under the water, so it didn't interfere with her natural fluids. He pulled himself out slowly and then thrust himself back in quickly as Christine moaned again, her knees straightening to accommodate the angle he needed.

There was no greater joy, no greater intimacy, than making love to her as he watched every expression on her lovely face…but Erik had to admit that bending her over and taking her from behind was an animalistic thrill. He felt powerful, like a wolf joining with his mate. Primitive, territorial, wild, illogical, but oh, so satisfying.

He held her steady as he pumped in and out, faster and harder. She threw back her head to scream his name over the sound of their flesh coming together. His passionate need was building inside him, and he was _so close_ to finishing. He thrust even harder, panting for it, until, finally, he exploded with pleasure, rocking into her one last time as he rode it out.

Erik pulled out and helped her stand upright.

"I guess I do need to wash my hair now," she panted faintly, embracing him for a moment and planting a light kiss on his chest before taking her hair down. He nodded and kissed lips one more time before grabbing a towel from the faux-wrought iron towel rack. He patted himself dry as she hummed the "Je veux vivre" from Romeo et Juliette a couple of steps down from the original key.

Erik picked up his own pile of discarded clothes and carried them into the bedroom. He started hanging them up, but before he put his trousers on the hanger, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He typed in the passcode and opened his text messages from the jeweler.

He stared at the picture the jeweler had sent of his progress, admiring how well his vision was coming together. He turned off his phone when he heard the water stop running.

Christine came out of the bathroom and threw herself onto the bed, habitually taking the side she slept on when she stayed overnight at his house – their house, he reminded himself. She switched on the flat screen television and found an old movie they had both seen. When he was done taking care of his clothes, she patted the bed beside her.

Erik climbed in and put an arm around her shoulders. She cuddled up next to him as Lauren Bacall told Humphrey Bogart how to whistle. She was asleep before Bogie had finished trying it out.


End file.
